


take my heart, pull it apart

by wwhatthehonkk



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Drunken Confessions, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, OR IS IT, Unrequited Love, Valentine's Day, Webcams, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:22:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29527035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wwhatthehonkk/pseuds/wwhatthehonkk
Summary: "i was just thinking that if i ever got hanahaki, i wouldn't even think about taking the surgery," he muses in his still drunken state. "even if it ends in my death, i don't ever want to forget the feeling of being in love with you."george's brain stops working. did dream just confess to being in love with him? his heart is racing. he can feel it beating vigorously against his chest. "even if it's a rose bush? with the thorns puncturing your lungs and giving you the slowest and most painful death?""even if it's a rose bush," dream responds immediately, like it's a default answer. "hell, george i'd grow a cactus in my lungs for you."
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 104





	take my heart, pull it apart

**Author's Note:**

> i miss dnf

george blinks blearily at the time on the bottom left corner of his monitor. it's a little past four in the morning and he's still on video call with dream on discord. this isn't a particularly rare occurrence—as a matter of fact, it happened almost everyday. he mentally calculates the time in florida to be about midnight. he looks up at his screen again to find dream pouring another shot of vodka into a glass despite his already heavily intoxicated state.

he laughs at the action. dream makes eye contact with george through the screen and narrows his eyes. "what're ya laughin' at?" he slurs. yep, definitely drunk. a small smile continues to play on george's lips. "nothing," he says innocently.

dream looks at him skeptically and downs the drink. "you should stop soon, dream," george advises. "or you're gonna regret it when you wake up."

"that's a thing for future me to handle," dream mumbles. he brings a hand to rub at his eyes and props his head on his knuckles. his head feels so heavy; it's like it's going to drop if there isn't something to support the weight of it. george yawns, sleep starting to cloud his mind. he's getting jealous of sapnap. he can see him sprawled out on dream's bed behind the said man.

he had passed out about half an hour ago from chugging beers like they were sodas. "drink some water, dream," the brunette instructs. "you need to at least cleanse your system a bit."

dream blinks at him before bending down and going out of frame. george hears the opening and closing of a minifridge. the blond returns with a glass bottle. it's one of those fancy ones with a stopper instead of a screw-on cap. he holds the neck of the bottle and takes a few good gulps from it. there's a trickle of water running down his chin from the corner of his lips when he's done. he brings the collar of his shirt up to wipe it off.

there's a small pause and they just stare at each other. then dream starts to talk again. "i don't like it when you do that." he frowns.

george raises an eyebrow. "do what?"

"when you call me dream even though there's no one else here," dream huffs. "come on, even nick calls me clay at home." george's heart clenches a bit. _home._ dream calls the place he lives in with sapnap home. and he's not there.

george stays silent for a while. "george, call me clay," dream commands. the brunette hesitates, then: "hi, clay."

dream's face lights up. "hello, george," he returns. they both break down into soft giggles. dream hums. "yeah, that feels right."

"what does?" the older questions.

"you," dream states simply. george's neck and ears feel hot. he adverts his eyes away from the hazy yellow ones staring straight at him.

"how— how's sapnap doing?" he tries to change the subject. dream looks back at his bed and tickles the sole of sapnap's foot. there's no reaction from the man. the blond turns back to looks at george. "i think he's dead," he grimaces. then, a loud snort sounds through the room. dream stills. "never mind, he's fine."

george chuckles at that. "hey, do you remember that stream you did a few days ago?" dream asks.

"which one?"

"the one where i asked you to be my valentine," he clarifies. george nods. dream laughs bitterly. "this may sound stupid—well, i guess it is... but, i was actually sad when you said no. even though it was a joke and all. i just— i didn't want it to be a joke."

the older tenses. _why is he saying this?_

"i'm gonna be so angry at myself tomorrow. i don't care, though. not right now, at least," dream says giddily. "ah, you're so handsome. did i ever tell you that you're handsome? well, i'm telling you now. you are handsome, georgie. so perfect."

george's mouth opens and closes in search of a response. what is he supposed to say in this situation? dream may be shitfaced drunk, but george hasn't had a single drop of alcohol in the last 48 hours. "thank you," he manages to get out.

"i read something online recently. i don't remember how i came across it, but i think it was pretty cool. or sad; depending on how you wanna look at it," dream rambles. "so there's this very famous trope for love stories in japan. wait, right, now i remember. sapnap was asking me to read some manga or some shit and i somehow came across this. anyways, it's called hanahaki. it's when you cough up flowers because of an unrequited love and it can get so severe it could result in death."

george sucks in a breath. what is dream hinting at?

"it's like a plant roots itself inside your lungs and it grows from there. and it sounds so painful. imagine if it was a rose bush with all the thorns and stuff," the younger continues. "different writers always change the way it works slightly, but the most common thing is the removal of it. apparently, the flower will only wither away once the love is requited or you can take the surgery. however, it'll remove all the memories that made you fall in love with that person and you'll never be able to love them romantically again."

"what's the point of this, clay?" george finds himself using his real name. he can see how dream's ears perk up slightly at it.

"i was just thinking that if i ever got hanahaki, i wouldn't even think about taking the surgery," he muses in his still drunken state. "even if it ends in my death, i don't ever want to forget the feeling of being in love with you."

george's brain stops working. did dream just confess to being in love with him? his heart is racing. he can feel it beating vigorously against his chest. "even if it's a rose bush? with the thorns puncturing your lungs and giving you the slowest and most painful death?"

"even if it's a rose bush," dream responds immediately, like it's a default answer. "hell, george i'd grow a cactus in my lungs for you."

"it's a bit beautiful, don't you think?" he inquires.

george bites his bottom lip in thought. "it sounds sad."

"it's sad and beautiful, then," dream concludes.

"how old would your rose bush be by now?" george asks meekly. the younger hums. "probably a couple of years. i don't think it'd be a rose bush, though. i think it'd be cornflowers."

"and why is that?"

"you said that they're your favourite, didn't you?"

wow, dream remembers even that. george wonders how much dream actually knows about him—probably more than himself, he supposes.

"would it ever end if it were real?" dream asks, hopeful. "would they ever go away before i die?"

"i don't know," george whispers. his mic barely picks it up. dream lets out a shaky breath. "okay," he breathes out.

he doesn't even look the least bit remorseful about it. it looks like he's fine with it—fine with the strongest feelings he's ever felt for george not being the least bit returned and george's heart aches at the thought. how did dream even fall so hard?

it's silent now, but they both stay in the call. george fiddles with a cuticle on his pointer finger. suddenly, a thump makes it way to his headphones. he looks up to see dream face down on his desk. a fond smile makes its way up to his lips as he studies the steady rise and fall of his shoulders. he finally passed out from all the alcohol he'd been consuming.

george's eyelids start to feel heavy with sleep too. he doesn't bother to leave the call when he rests his cheek on his arm on the desk. he lets his eyelids fall shut and mumbles a small 'goodnight, clay' before falling into his own slumber.


End file.
